


Delicious Treats

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, CEO!Peter, Drama, Intern!Stiles, M/M, Manipulation, Office AU, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, derek is a knight in shining armour, power abuse, shaming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is the CEO at Hale International. Stiles has just graduated from college and is an intern at Peter's company. As if there wasn't going to be office sex.<br/>Update: Jealous Derek has entered the building.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yo! lyrics and title taken from 'Hold On' by Don Broco. Check em out, they're a sexy fuckin band. Thanks for reading!

_I talk so smooth but cut so deep_  
 _I'm hurting you, bruise like a peach_  
 _I am the best you've ever seen_  
 _You don't know how I do it_  
 _but know what I be giving you_

The office was large and spacious, with room for a large desk and armchair, a couch over the other side of the room with a small drinks cabinet and fridge. The windows stretched across one wall, showing a spectacular view of San Francisco bay. The wall behind the desk was covered in shelves, with a marvellous collection of books and a few decorative pieces. A pristine set of matroyshka dolls from Moscow; a wooden tribal mask from Uganda; a small antler; a glass sculpture of a tree. Various things, gifts and souvenirs from all around the country and the world.

The name on the door said Peter Hale, and he was the CEO of Hale International, a company which had been in the family for generations. Previously Hale Industries, it was a company which controlled the market in prescription drug production and distribution. A company which had been at the forefront of one of the fastest growing industries in the United States and the world over the past century.

Peter Hale was a very cunning, clever, well-presented, good looking and rich man. He dressed in a suit and tie every day, did not believe in ‘casual Friday’ and was respected by all who worked for him. He was fierce and determined, and rarely did he let anything slip through his hands. If there were any opportunities, any open doors, he kept them open, kept all clients and shareholders happy, kept the company in the top ten in the state and top hundred in the world.

He couldn’t really take credit for all of it, though often he did. His grandparents had held the company together during the depression and his parents’ leadership allowed for exponential growth, going international just before they handed it to his sister. Her untimely death lead to his promotion from CMO to CEO and he had been sitting pretty at the top ever since.

This afternoon he was seated calmly at his desk, tapping away at his keyboard, making some new friends in the UK who might be good for expanding the office in London. His emails were always short and sweet, asking if they’d like a trip to California, saying he didn’t much like video conferences and London was too cold this time of year. (An all-expenses paid trip always sweetened the business deals, and made for a greater chance of success.)

A knock at the door sounded and Peter didn’t look up as he called out, “Come in.” It was his personal assistant with some reports that needed signing before they could be filed, and his two o’clock coffee.

“Ah, Olivia,” said Peter brightly, moving away from the keyboard. “Thank you. I’ll bring these back out shortly.”

“No rush,” she said. “Uh, by the way – what happened to the intern?”

“Mr. Stilinski? Oh, I told him he could take a lunch break. He’s quite the hard worker.”

“You’re too kind.”

“You might as well take one, too. This company can survive without you for an hour.”

“Barely,” she said with a smile, "I don't know how _you'd_ survive without me, let alone the whole building."

Peter laughed. Her flirtations had not gone unnoticed, but they had not been acted upon either. "Neither do I, sweetheart. Have a good break."

“Thanks, Mr. Hale!”

When the door was closed again Peter heard movement from under the desk and a mumbled, indecipherable complaint. Peering below, he said, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m allowed to flirt with my PA if I want to.”

The look the intern gave him was priceless. Stiles was kneeling beneath the desk, thankfully not able to be seen from the other side, protected by a solid wooden panel. He had his face pressed to Peter’s crotch, whose pants were unzipped with his cock stuffed down the young man’s throat. He had been that way for at least thirty minutes, told not to move. Peter had already fucked into his mouth and spilled down his throat, but he loved the feeling of being in Stiles’ mouth so much he decided just to stay there as his erection went down, now mostly limp and heavy on the young man’s tongue. Stiles didn’t have to suck or lick or stroke for it to be pleasant – it was just that the warmth and feeling of his smooth mouth was too good for Peter to pass up.

Peter imagined Stiles was objecting at his flirting with Olivia while he had his dick in Stiles’ mouth. It probably wasn’t considered socially acceptable, or perhaps Stiles was getting a little jealous. Maybe tired of being in the same position for too long.

“Is your jaw hurting?” asked Peter gently, stroking his thumb across Stiles’ bottom lip, swollen and red. When Stiles closed his eyes and nodded gently, the sensation made Peter’s cock twitch slightly. It was just enough stimulation.

“Poor Stiles,” he crooned, raking his fingernails across Stiles’ scalp, “You’ve done so well.”

Stiles swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and his throat contracted around the head of Peter’s dick. Peter felt his cock stir again.

“I think you’ve almost earned your lunch break,” he said quietly, and Stiles opened his eyes again to glance up at the businessman. “You can leave after you’ve made me come once more.”

Stiles groaned and Peter thrust forward slightly, making the sound catch in Stiles’ throat. “Don’t complain, I’m being nice. You should see me on a bad day.”

Stiles made another muffled complaint, looking like he was about to pull off to give some smart remark, but Peter gripped the back of his neck. “Ah-ah, not so fast. If you’ve got something to say, I’m sure it can wait until you’re done.”

Stiles glowered darkly before he began to move his tongue, stroking at the underside of Peter’s cock, swallowing against him, breathing heavily through his nose. Peter relaxed his grip, letting Stiles move his head back to bob up and down on his length, steadily filling again from the pleasant sensations of Stiles’ mouth and tongue.

His lips, god did the boy have nice lips. That was what Peter had noticed first, apart from the large brown eyes. His lips were bowed, full and flush, and the first thought Peter had was how they would look around his cock. He’d taken Stiles’ mouth more than a few times now and Peter couldn’t get over how beautiful he was like this.

It didn’t take long for Stiles to bring Peter back to full hardness, and Peter allowed himself to relax against the back of his chair, a heavy hand resting on Stiles’ head, with just enough pressure to remind him to keep going deep. Peter liked being deep inside of him.

He came without warning, gripping Stiles’ neck again and thrusting hard up into his mouth. Stiles spluttered but stayed put, obediently swallowing, hot come dragging down his throat, not a drop on his lips or face. Peter slumped back, releasing him, and Stiles sat back and coughed, taking a huge gasping breath.  When he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Don’t flirt with Olivia while I’m sucking you off!”

“Don’t be so offended,” said Peter lazily. “Besides, you liked it just as much as I did.”

“I’d like it better if I had a cushion or something. Your carpet ain’t exactly the most comfortable thing to sit on.”

“All that complaining isn’t going to do you any good,” said Peter, taking Stiles’ hand and helping him up before tucking himself back into his pants. “Go on, better get back to work before Olivia gets back.”

Stiles pulled a face at him but didn’t pull away when Peter grabbed his tie and pulled him in for a kiss, tasting himself on Stiles’ perfect lips, gently running his tongue over Stiles’ teeth.

“I’ll see you around, Stilinski,” said Peter, biting the intern’s bottom lip once more for good measure. Despite Stiles’ standoffish demeanour, he couldn’t help the moan that followed, and blushed as he pulled away.

Peter watched him walk out the office and sighed contentedly. There was an intern who would definitely get a position in the company.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't planning on extending this but hey my imagination gets away from me sometimes. I'm sure you'll enjoy it all the same :) thanks for reading, lovelies.

Stiles shifted at his desk. He was supposed to be proofreading a report from the marketing department but he could hardly think. Not because he’d been out all night or because he’d had a crappy morning. It was mostly because of the meeting he’d had with Peter about four hours earlier. In which Peter had laid him down on the desk and fingered him until Stiles was almost crying, before shoving a plug into him and ordering him to keep it there until Peter personally removed it again. Stiles had almost taken it out on the spot but Peter told him if he did, he would spank him.

The thought of being spanked by his boss was humiliating, so Stiles left the plug in, and now he was sitting at his desk, trying to proofread, trying to ignore the constant pressure on his prostate. Peter could be a sick bastard sometimes, and Stiles had to admit he wasn’t _totally_ in love with the idea of fucking his boss, but it had advantages. When Peter had first propositioned him, Stiles had stammered out something about contracts and reputations and workplace relations, but Peter had hushed him, gently promised that there would be no negative consequences, that nobody could tell Peter what to do or not to do, and it would in no way negatively affect Stiles’ chances of getting offered a job. In fact, it might even help them…

Stiles’ ears had perked up at that. And when he had consented, he told himself it was all for the job – but Peter was pretty good looking, so he figured it could only be a good thing. It was only after Stiles had sex with him did he realise how controlling and severe the man was. He did nothing by half measures, sex included, and if he wanted something he didn’t keep quiet about it. He’d have an idea and have Stiles in some crazy position within the hour, and Stiles couldn’t bring himself to say no, mostly because the sex was incredible. Like Peter was _incredible_ at sex. Any tumble between the sheets Stiles experienced in college was nothing, not a blip, not worth an iota of thought compared to Peter. Peter knew every single place to press, kiss, bite, push, pull, every spot to make Stiles beg for it.

So when Peter told him to wear the plug, Stiles did. Even if his prostate was distracting him from doing actual work.

He sighed. He was so hungry. He’d kill for a coffee but luck wasn’t on his side – the kitchen was at least a hundred feet down the hall, and Stiles didn’t trust himself to walk that far without collapsing. He was considering taking the plug out just to get a caffeine hit when there was a knock on his open door. Stiles glanced up, expecting it to be one of the office workers, but it wasn’t. It was Derek Hale. Chief Financial Officer, first class honours from Yale, _Peter’s nephew._

Stiles had only ever seen his face on the company website or on the news. He had been away on a business trip to Hong Kong for the past few weeks and they hadn’t met. Derek was much _bigger_ in real life than on the screen. Not that Stiles was short – in fact, he was probably the same height. But Derek was broad, heavy. Stiles wanted to know what he looked like without clothes on. Probably very muscular, a body worth exploring…

No, no, _no_ , Derek is Peter’s nephew. Don’t go around fucking two people from the same family, thought Stiles.

“Hi,” said Derek, and he smiled and Stiles almost melted. _Shit_. “You’re Stiles, right? Sorry I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself, been out of town. I’m Derek,” he moved in to the small office and held his hand out.

Stiles stood up to shake his hand and gripped it tight, not because he had a good handshake, but because he had forgotten about the plug and it had shifted inside of him as he stood. Trying to control his voice, he said, “ _Yeah_ , uh I mean – I – nice to meet you.”

Derek smiled again. “No need to be nervous, Stiles.”

“I’m not nervous, just – caught me off guard,” said Stiles, managing a crooked smile, trying to stop his eye from twitching. “You’re taller than you look on television.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. When was I on television?”

“ABC interview about a month ago, interview about offshore shareholders, I think.”

“Ah, that’s right,” said Derek. “Well I’m glad somebody saw it.”

“I’m sure plenty of people did. You conducted yourself really well. And that is a compliment, take it.”

Derek laughed. “I will. I hope to see more of you around – will I be seeing you in finances anytime soon?”

“Yeah, Peter’s trying to get me to work with all the departments to learn how they work. I’m in marketing at the moment but I should be in finance by next week.”

“I look forward to it,” said Derek, making to leave. “Hope Peter isn’t too hard on you.”

Stiles laughed and tried not to groan until Derek was out of earshot. How was Stiles supposed to work in finance with _that_? He was ridiculously good looking and charming, in a totally different way to Peter. Derek seemed so friendly, so genuine. Peter was nice, but Stiles knew him better now and knew that Peter was far more concerned about himself than anyone else. Stiles got the impression that Derek would take an intense interest in someone’s life if he was sleeping with them. Stiles wanted to know what afterglow with Derek felt like. Peter’s idea of afterglow was to send Stiles out of the office.

Almost on cue, an email notification appeared on Stiles’ computer. Peter wanted to see him.

Stiles grimaced as he made his way to the elevator.

 

 

Scratching his chin and absent-mindedly thinking he should have shaved this morning, Derek Hale stared at the reports and the calculator in front of him. It still didn’t add up. This was ridiculous – CFO staring at a _desk calculator_ and trying to figure out how Peter had spent so much money on the company credit card. There was so much missing that there had to be a receipt (or a dozen) out of place.

Derek sighed. Most of his job involved delegating tasks to others, but he personally managed all of Peter’s and his own finances, and Peter was spending far too much of the company’s money. He had to ask if there were any more receipts.

Standing, Derek made his way up to the top floor, hoping to ask his uncle a few more questions. It didn’t add up even when he counted in the expenses for the Christmas party, and the donations they had made to the national doctor’s association. Was Peter keeping his finger in too many pies? Doing business under the table? Derek hated to think it but it wasn’t altogether impossible, knowing Peter.

But when he went to knock at Peter’s door, he heard something that made him pause. A very soft groan, that sounded altogether far too private for an office context. He waited and listened a few moments longer, and heard it again, this time more drawn out, with short and sharp breaths in between, hitched and desperate.

And then someone’s voice, low enough that Derek couldn’t quite make out the words.

With very careful movements, Derek pressed his eye to the keyhole. Seeing nothing, he moved until he could see his uncle’s desk, the view now nothing but a thin sliver, and what he saw made his breath catch. The intern, Stilinski, was with his uncle. Derek knew it was Stiles even though he couldn’t see his face – he had a very distinctive shape. Slender and long-limbed, swan-like neck spotted with dark freckles, dark hair not quite as neat as it had been that morning. Derek wasn’t saying he had been keeping an eye on the young man but he had certainly sparked an interest the first time Derek saw him in the lobby.

And now he saw him in a very different light. Sitting on Peter’s lap in the armchair, Stiles arms were gripping the leather seat, his chest to Peter’s, his neck bent and head bowed, shifting as he took heavy breaths. His trousers were pulled down, exposing the smooth skin of his legs and ass, and Derek could guess what was happening even if he couldn’t quite see it. Peter moved ever so slightly and Stiles made a choked noise, his body jerking upwards, but strong hands pulled his hips back down.

“Such a good boy, Stiles,” said Peter in a low, lazy voice. “Don’t disappoint me now.”

“Please, I – I can’t –”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Stiles swore, and began to grind down onto Peter, body shaking, a drawn-out noise falling from his lips. He was obviously exhausted, and Derek didn’t know what Peter had done to him but he looked _fucked_. And he was still going.

Derek felt his own cock stir in his trousers and he knew he should stop watching, but he stayed put, watched Stiles fuck himself onto Peter’s cock, trembling from the effort.

“Did you keep it in all day?” asked Peter, running a hand through Stiles’ hair.

Stiles moaned. “I – y-yes.”

“I can tell. You’re not as tight as you usually are. Not that I’m complaining, you still feel _wonderful_. And so determined to please me – so eager to keep going. Afraid of what I might do if you stop?”

Stiles didn’t respond to that, instead choosing to gasp when Peter thrust up further into him.

“Would you like me to take over? Are you tired?”

“Y-yes – Peter – please, please, I can’t –”

“I love it when you beg. Ask me again.”

“Peter, please just – take over, I can’t keep going.”

“You’re such a polite young man,” purred Peter, before he grasped Stiles’ torso and lowered him onto the desk. Derek could see Stiles’ body shudder as he relaxed, finally able to breathe, and a moment later he cried out as Peter began to pound into him. The CEO placed a hand over Stiles’ mouth as he fucked him hard and fast, and Stiles’ eyes were thrown open when Peter’s other hand grasped his erection.

Derek wanted to watch, wanted so badly to see Stiles finish but he felt the guilt and embarrassment begin to wash over him, a deep tug in his stomach that what he was seeing was wrong. He stood up straight, a little too fast, and walked quickly back down the hallway. Derek knew that an employee complaint wouldn’t work – Peter couldn’t be touched by those. He was well above consequences in the company, he’d made sure of it.

There had to be a way to make this right.

 

 

Derek’s decision to confront Stiles was not the best he had ever made, but he was low on options. It was later that day when Derek made a detour past Stiles’ workspace, asking how his day went. Stiles seemed a little surprised to see him, but was polite and talkative nonetheless. The way he used sarcasm made Derek smile and Stiles smiled shyly as he turned away to pack his things. He obviously wasn’t used to getting attention.

They walked back down the hallway together before Derek pressed the button and waited for an elevator. They were in calm silence, Stiles completely unaware that Derek knew about his relationship with Peter. “How’s work with Peter going? ” said Derek casually, but he looked sideways to see Stiles falter slightly.

“Um – yeah, it’s going good. He’s a really clever guy,” Stiles replied. The elevator bell rang and they stepped inside. Derek waited for the doors to close before he moved, and Stiles made an alarmed sound as Derek halted and grasped his arm suddenly. “Hey, watch it – what are you –”

“You can tell me the truth or you can tell me to back off,” said Derek calmly, and Stiles eyes went wide. “But I didn’t realise that 'teaching you everything he knows' _meant_ everything.”

Stiles blushed, his cheeks and ears glowing as he stuttered. “I – don’t know what –”

“Is it consensual?”

Stiles looked like he was about to fight more, but he was a smart kid. He could see that Derek knew the truth. His mouth twisted before he said, “Look, it’s alright. I’m not – he doesn’t hurt me, or anything.”

“It’s not consensual, though.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s _completely_ one-sided,” Stiles said quietly. “He didn’t really ask if I was interested, he just kind of – asked for permission. And I gave it.” When Derek was silent for a moment too long, Stiles sighed. “Look, he’s fired every other intern he ever had within days – I’ve been here for two months. He _likes_ me. I need this to go well.”

“And getting a glowing recommendation from Peter involves fucking him?”

Stiles shoved him away and Derek was surprised at his strength. “Don’t judge me,” Stiles snapped. “We weren’t all born into prestigious families.”

“Hey, I had to get a scholarship to go to college, too,” said Derek firmly.

“You could have gone to college without it, you’ve got the money to spare. I had to get an academic scholarship to even have a chance at a good career. I worked my ass off, and if fucking Peter means I have a shot at a job, I’ll do it. I’d make the same choice every goddamn time.”

Derek’s frown disappeared at the outburst. Stiles’ had by no means been quiet before, but the tone wasn’t the same now, the way his eyes burned angrily wasn’t what Derek was used to. And the silence that followed might have been worse. As the elevator began to slow down, Derek said, “Look, I’m sorry, I just –”

“Forget it, man,” said Stiles numbly, as the doors opened and he walked out, not making eye contact. Derek sighed. He wasn’t good at this. He’d just wanted to help.


	3. Chapter 3

Although it was summer, it was windy and cold and the fog lay heavy in the lower parts of town. Luckily for Stiles, he had a wonderful scarf sent to him for his birthday by one of his college friends and he was cozy in a few layers of clothing.

The line at the coffee shop was longer than usual, but he wasn’t in any kind of rush. He had a good hour before he needed to be at the office, though he’d have liked to be there earlier to get himself organised. Glancing around, Stiles saw a few familiar faces, regulars at the shop, people he’d exchanged words with once or twice. There was a young man seated against the wall with a newspaper. Stiles wasn’t sure, but he looked familiar, too. He was tall, long-legged and had a mess of dark blonde hair. He was really good looking. Looked like he belonged on a runway.

Stiles considered going over to say hi, but thought the better of it. He had too much stuff going on right now to consider meeting anybody new – the internship took up way too much of his time for him to see his current friends. So he placed his order, got his coffee and walked out, making his way to the bus stop.

When he got on the bus he went about halfway down, and when he looked up he saw the same blonde man get on. Stiles frowned. Perhaps he’d been in the coffee shop just to keep warm. It was just a coincidence. The man glanced at Stiles but didn’t smile as he strode down the aisle to sit further back.

The first half of Stiles’ day was fairly boring. Peter was out at a morning tea charity function, so there were no office distractions for Stiles. He met with the marketing people again and they told him his reports were above and beyond expectations, and Stiles made his way to lunch with a satisfied grin plastered to his face.

The grin faded when he saw the young man out on the street again. Three times in one day? A very strange coincidence. Stiles ignored him, making his way down to his favourite deli on the street corner. He got himself a bagel and wasn’t surprised this time to see the blonde man seated in a booth by the door, with the same newspaper he’d been reading that morning.

Stiles made his way over and sat down opposite him. The blonde’s eyes went a little wider as he realised that he’d been caught out.

“You’ve been following me,” said Stiles simply.

The man hesitated but he nodded slightly. “Yeah. You noticed.”

“My dad’s a cop. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Right.”

“Do you know my name?”

“Stiles Stilinski.”

“Yeah. Who are you? And why are you stalking me?”

“My name is Isaac. And I’m not stalking you – I’m keeping an eye on you, as a favour. We have a mutual friend.”

Stiles frowned. Mutual friend? Who could possibly want to keep an eye on Stiles? Not his dad, he knew Stiles could take care of himself, mostly…

Stiles sighed when he realised who it was. “Derek.”

The corner of Isaac’s lip twitched in a smile. “He said you were smart.”

“Oh that’s nice of him. Real nice,” said Stiles dryly, moving to stand up. “I’m gonna go find myself another place to eat my lunch and you’re not going to follow me. Tell Derek to stop nosing around.”

“I know why he’s worried about you,” said Isaac and Stiles froze.

Isaac smiled. He had Stiles where he wanted him. Stiles bit his tongue to stop from cursing aloud.

“I’m not bluffing.”

“I know you’re not,” said Stiles. He wasn’t taking any chances. He sat back down. “I should have figured Derek wouldn’t respect my privacy anyway.”

“This isn’t about your privacy, Stiles. This is about you being in danger.”

“What I’m doing isn’t dangerous, it’s tactical –”

“Tactically bad. What makes you think that Peter will ever let you go?” said Isaac, leaning forward. “What will you do when you try to get another job? When you find someone else you want to spend time with? Peter isn’t going to just let you get away.”

Stiles swallowed. These were the sort of thoughts he kept hidden even from himself, pushed down to avoid the panic. He didn’t want to think about it. “Peter can’t stop me from leaving –”

“Peter is manipulative and evil,” said Isaac simply. “If you told him to leave you alone, he’d make sure you never get a job anywhere worthwhile. He’d blacklist you.”

“And if I had said no to him in the first place, he would have done that anyway. I don’t think you understand what he’s like.”

“I understand perfectly,” said Isaac calmly. “How do you think I know Derek? I was intern last year. Peter asked me if I fancied a fuck one day and I reported him. He fired me.”

Stiles was stunned. “I – I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Ignoring the apology, Isaac went on. “Derek got me set up with my own accounting business and I work for him now, on his side-projects. But saying no to Peter ruined me, and it’ll ruin you too if you’re not careful.”

Stiles could feel the panic surging through him, rising in his chest, his head pounding. He hadn’t had a panic attack since the first year of college. He didn’t realise until now how serious the situation was. Isaac seemed to sense something wasn’t right and he reached across to grasp onto Stiles’ shoulder, his long fingers pressing gently into the flesh beneath his jacket. “Hey, Stiles. It’ll be okay, alright. I’m going to look out for you, and you, me and Derek are going to figure out how to fix this.”

Stiles took a deep breath and nodded. “Y-yeah. Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up from work this afternoon. If Peter’s back and wants to see you, tell him you’ve got plans.”

“You think Peter will actually care if I have plans?”

“He’s evil but he can be civil.”

“Oh, that’s great. Very reassuring.”

“If you want, I’ll even hold your hand on the way to the bus stop,” said Isaac with a grin. “Get some rumours going.”

Stiles considered that. If Peter heard that Stiles was dating someone else, maybe he would realise he didn’t have quite as tight a hold on the intern. That might work. It might throw him.

“That’s actually a great idea,” said Stiles, sitting up a little straighter. “If Peter hears I’m dating someone, it’ll derail him. He’ll know that I’m not affected, that I’m – that I’m not _his_.”

Isaac raised his eyebrows. “Throw him a curveball?”

“Exactly!”

“Come to dinner with me, then.”

“Wait, are you gay?”

“Nope, but happy to pretend. You’re not bad looking, anyway,” said Isaac, standing up and giving Stiles a sly wink. “And besides, if I tried to fuck you, Derek would murder me himself.”

Stiles blinked, before chasing Isaac out of the deli. “Wait – Whaddya mean, _Derek_ would murder you? Isaac!”

 

 

That afternoon, Stiles visited Peter to get his weekly evaluation. Stiles couldn’t stop his leg from jumping up and down as he sat in the chair opposite Peter. It was almost like a nervous tic. If Peter noticed it, he didn’t say anything.

When he finished ticking all the boxes and writing a quick appraisal, Peter put his pen down and looked up at Stiles. “Any plans tonight?”

Stiles swallowed. “Uh, yeah. I have – I have a date.”

One of Peter’s eyebrows went up slightly. “A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Who is it?”

“Friend of a friend. That sort of thing.”

“What time is your date?” asked Peter.

“I’m not sure, I think it was –”

“Will your boyfriend mind if you’re half an hour late?”

Stiles blanched. “He – he’s not my boyfriend, and I – I don’t want to stand him up.”

“I didn’t say stand him up,” said Peter calmly. “I said half an hour late.”

When Peter stood, Stiles felt his body go rigid. “Peter, I – I can’t –”

“No, Stiles. You’re going to come here and bend over my desk and I’m going to make you beg me to fuck you.”

Stiles felt colour flow into his cheeks and he said, trying his best to keep calm, “I don’t want this to enter into my personal life. This – _relationship_ of ours – you said it was strictly workplace.”

“And we’re still in the workplace. No matter how jealous I get about you seeing someone else, in this office you’re all mine, and I’m going to remind you of that.” Peter leaned over his desk and stared at Stiles intently, his blue eyes burning with an angry glaze Stiles hadn’t ever seen. “Stand up, and come here.”

As he stood, Stiles got the feeling that this relationship was getting more and more one-sided. At least when they had first begun he had approached the situation with an open mind and he was able to appreciate the mutual benefits of their relationship. But now he knew what Peter was like, he wasn’t so sure. And he wasn’t so eager.

But Stiles also knew he wasn’t leaving this office until Peter said he could. So he walked around to where Peter was waiting. Stiles took a sharp breath as Peter reached for his belt and made short work of it, undoing his pants and saying, “Take those off. Shoes, too.”

Stiles kicked his shoes off and left his trousers in a pile on the floor beside them.

“Briefs.”

“Peter –”

“Do as you’re told, Stiles, or I might have to rewrite your evaluation.”

Stiles flinched. Peter had never threatened him like that before. He shoved his briefs down his legs and was completely naked from the waist down save for his socks. Peter took his arm and pulled him closer, manoeuvring Stiles to stand in front of the desk, before saying quietly, “Lean over.”

Stiles leaned forward with his hands on the desk but a moment later Peter had grabbed both his arms and pulled them behind his back, causing Stiles’ face to fall to the desk, his cheek pressed against the hard surface. He grunted as Peter twisted his arms around, and was struggling until Peter ordered, “Keep still.”

Stiles didn’t know what he expected but when Peter pulled off his tie and used it to bind his arms together, he felt his cock jump. Some of the best sex he’d had in college had been with bondage and he had a bit of a kink for it. But Peter had never done it before. They’d never done this.

He could feel the material dig into his skin just enough for his hands to start tingling not long after. He tugged at the binding, testing the strength – and Peter was good. He could hardly move his wrists, his arms.

“Oh my god,” Stiles murmured, barely breathing the words as he felt Peter’s hands graze across his exposed skin.

“I think this turns you on, Stiles,” said Peter softly. “I think no matter how much your brain tells you that sleeping with me is a bad idea, you like being played with. You like being told what to do.”

As he spoke he opened his top drawer to retrieve the bottle of lubricant he had there, not wasting any time. Stiles drew a quick breath as Peter’s slick fingers dragged across his entrance before pressing one inside, not taking long to add another, and then a third. Stiles was writhing within a minute and rutting desperately against the desk, barely able to think. He was in a haze, being tied up and used like this – it was such a rush, a fantasy of his, and yet this wasn’t roleplaying, it wasn’t technically mutual. Maybe that’s what made it so much more intense.

It took him a moment to realise that Peter was speaking.

“Do you think I wouldn’t notice? That my nephew has been watching you, asking after you, sending his people to keep an eye on you. I’ve got my own people watching you too, Stiles,” he said, growling, reaching his hand out to hold the back of Stiles’ neck, hold him still as he fucked him with his fingers. “Derek and I, we share a weakness for pretty things. I think it runs in the family, don’t you?”

Stiles could hardly think, let alone respond. He moaned loudly, voice catching as Peter prodded his prostate.

“Derek always takes in the strays. But it’s different with you. He wants you the same way I do. Wants your pretty lips around his dick, wants you to ride him, fuck him until you start crying. Shame you’re all mine, Stiles.”

“Peter, Peter, please –”

“When I fuck you, you’re going to scream Derek’s name, not mine. Understand?”

“I – what? Peter –”

Stiles yelped as he received a sharp slap to his behind. It wasn’t a warning, it was harsh and painful and it made tears gather in the corner of his eyes.

“Do as you’re told, Stiles.”

Stiles bit his lip, trying to focus. “D-Derek – oh, god –”

“Good boy,” said Peter, crooning. “You look so good. All tied up, like a present.”

Stiles blushed, whimpering as Peter removed his fingers from his body. He hated being so desperate, wished he could muster an ounce of self control but he wanted so badly to be filled. Suddenly, Stiles realised how he could get through this – he could actually pretend it was Derek fucking him. He couldn’t _see_ Peter, and let’s face it, Stiles had a pretty good imagination. If he closed his eyes and pretended it was Derek, he might be able to save himself some of the embarrassment and at the same time keep Peter happy.

It seemed like the only choice he had, really. It was that or spend the entire time being scared of Peter and wishing it was Derek, anyway.

He wasn’t being touched, and Stiles keened, shifting his body, and began to play along. “Derek – please, I want – want you inside me.”

He didn’t have to wait long for a cock to nudge against his entrance, teasing him. Stiles groaned and tried to push back but he was held in place by the hand on his neck. He felt the other moving, felt himself stretched just a little until the head popped inside, and Stiles gasped, clenching around the welcome intrusion.

“More – I need more –”

“Greedy,” growled his partner, but pushed in further nonetheless.

Stiles’ eyes went wide as he was stretched, ever-so-slowly filled, breached until he forgot to breathe. He took a shuddering gasp when his lover was pressed all the way in, and Stiles whispered Derek’s name as his body adjusted around the intrusion.

“That’s it, Stiles. Look at you take it all in. You’re so tight.”

The words were accented with a slight thrust and Stiles’ throat caught on a cry. His head was spinning and he could hardly feel his hands anymore, though he stretched and clenched his fingers, trying to grasp onto something, anything to hold onto, to keep a hold of his sanity.

“I know how to do it just the way you like it, Stiles. Just how you want it.”

His partner fucked him slowly, slower than he ever had before, deliberately slow to make Stiles beg for it. “Derek please,” Stiles gasped, pressing his forehead to the desk, squeezing his eyes shut. “I need more.”

“My, you are hungry for it,” replied his lover before leaning forward to whisper into his ear. “Good thing I’m in a generous mood.”

Stiles’ cries and moans grew and intensified as he was fucked harder, faster, deeper, more and more, faster and right into the spot that made him scream. When he came, he choked on Derek’s name and spilled onto the desk, smearing his come between the desk and his stomach. The friction on his dick made him flinch as he was fucked harder into the desk, his body oversensitive and barely able to hold onto consciousness as his partner growled and came deep inside of him, staggering thrusts that made Stiles gasp and whimper.

When Stiles’ head stopped spinning he could feel Peter’s cock still pulsing inside of him, and the tie around his arms was digging painfully into his flesh. Peter ran his hands up and down the smooth, dotted skin of Stiles’ back. Stiles shifted, trying to push himself off the desk but Peter held him down. “Ah-ah, not so fast. Let me enjoy this. I don’t think you understand how much I love being inside of you.”

“I think I have a rough idea,” muttered Stiles. Peter’s dick was softening, though, so it wasn’t so bad. And the sex had been pretty amazing, as per usual. But the heavy, dark wave of guilt washing over Stiles came quicker than it usually did and he didn’t feel good about himself or the situation he was in.

Stiles was trying to relax and wishing time would go faster when one of Peter’s hands moved away from him to push a button on his phone, and said, “Did you get all that, Derek?”

Stiles froze, blood going cold in his veins. No, no, no. This was bad, very bad.

“ _Stiles_?” Derek’s voice on the phone was worried and tense. Stiles realised that Peter had the phone on some sort of loudspeaker, but had Derek on mute. So Derek had heard all of it. Heard Stiles calling out his name, moaning his name, _coming_ with Derek’s name on his tongue while he was being fucked by Peter.

Stiles began to struggle again, thrashing about on the desk, and Peter did his best to hold him down but Stiles could squirm better than anyone and he managed to push himself off the floor and spin himself over, forcing Peter out of him and digging his heels into the older man’s chest. Peter kept a firm hold on Stiles’ collar so he couldn’t get away but at least Stiles could look at him as anger and shame burned in his dark brown eyes.

“Why would you do that?” Stiles shouted, voice hoarse and breaking from the emotion. “What is wrong with you? Isn’t this already fucked up enough? Haven’t you _done_ enough?!”

Peter gave him a withering look. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Don’t be such a _fucking asshole_!” Stiles snapped, kicking him again. “Get this off me _right now_.”

“I think it’s a nice touch.”

Stiles began to pull at his arms until he thought the loss of circulation would cause permanent damage to his hands, until the tie began to creak and the silk began to tear. His hand, slick with sweat, slipped free and he threw the tie on the ground, kicking Peter’s things to the floor as he swung his legs over the side of the desk and stood up, collecting his clothes to dress himself once more.

“You can play your fucked up little games with someone else from now on,” said Stiles.

“Stiles, we made an agreement –”

“This was not a part of that agreement!” said Stiles, doing up his belt and beginning to do the buttons on his shirt. “I agreed to suck you off and ride you when you get bored so you would like me, and you said you’d give me a good recommendation. Publicly shaming me and playing your fucking weird mind games wasn’t a part of the agreement.”

“Maybe you didn’t read the fine print.”

“Maybe you should’ve written me a fucking contract in the first place.” Stiles was dressed once more, and he wasted no time grabbing his backpack and leaving the office, not bothering to say goodbye and not bothering to check if Derek was still listening.

Derek hung up before Peter could say anything else to him.


End file.
